In the Jaws of the Wolf
by Calista Fitzgerald
Summary: A continuation of "Wolf By the Ears" Updated!
1. Default Chapter

                                                "In the Jaws of the Wolf"

            I sit in my new bedchamber and sigh from exhaustion. I am here. I am safe. I had _passed. _

            Thad's sister, Jane had welcomed me with open arms. She never once thought that I had passed. As I came to her home, she rushed up to the carriage and hugged me. She said, "Oh Elizabeth, I know we shall be fast friends! I am so sorry to hear about your family, Thad has told me all about it. But he has also told me not to talk about it, so I shall not breach the subject. Please come inside, you must be exhausted!"

            This was how much of the afternoon went. I found Jane to be a very nice person, though she does talk quite a lot. What annoyed me the most was how she continued to call me Elizabeth. I do not think I shall ever grow used to that name—Elizabeth Lackland. 

            I am not Elizabeth Lackland, the white woman who died along with her family! I am Harriet Hemings, a nigra girl, only passing for white. 

            Oh what would Mama say if she saw me doing this? What would she say if she could see me going against my heritage? 

            I know what she would say. She would say, "Go ahead Harriet, live your new life. You _are Elizabeth Lackland forevermore. Don't mess it all up." _

            I am a little scared that I will mess this all up. I am afraid that someone will find out I am not Elizabeth… that I am Harriet—a slave.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

            Thad came today. I shall say it again—I am in love with him. I don't know if he has much regard for me, but it may be because we were in front of his sister and her husband the entire time. 

            Jane has told me all about what she does at the Orphan Asylum. She says the need is great there and would appreciate my going with her tomorrow. I said I would though I would rather sit at home.

            Home. That is the first time I've call it that. I now miss Mama dreadfully. I think of the all the days that will go by with no Mama. No Eston. No Madison. No Beverly. No Mister Jefferson.

            I call him Mister Jefferson now. Ever since Thad told me to—and since I am not a slave anymore—I call him this. I miss everything about Monticello. I don't know how I shall ever grow used to this life in Washington City. It is so foreign so strange. 

            Mama I miss you so.

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I went to the asylum. I almost enjoyed it. The children were darling, and I think I have decided to take Thad's advice about teaching. I love children, so it seems a worthwhile profession. 

I have not talked to Thad about it yet though. I don't think he wants to tell me many things. He wants me to make my own decisions, which is… I suppose a little scary. It is so different then at Monticello, though I suppose freedom is ruling your own life. 

As a slave decisions were all made for me—well except for the decision to pass—that was all my decision. 

I have come to realize that people treat me with much more respect. Today, no man looked at me as if he was having improper thoughts about my body. Everyone was nice and polite… because everyone thinks I am white. 

What would they do if they knew I was a nigra? What would Jane and her husband do? Would they throw me out? Would they turn me in and I could be sold, since I don't have free papers? 

Oh Lordy, I am scared. I wish I was back home right now—in Monticello. 


	2. New Opportunities

I know it's kind of short—but I'll write more if I know people want to read it. PLEASE REVIEW!

"New Opportunities"                                                                            

Jane told me she can arrange a position for me to teach at. The orphans need education, and though the wages would not be very large, it was a good position. I told her I would think about it but I am definitely considering it.

I wonder what Mama is doing right now. I can't help but miss Monticello and… dare I say it… slavery. Not that I was a slave. I wasn't… I mean not really…

Oh I am so confused. I was—I mean I _am_ a slave. I am a nigra. Nothing can change that… nothing at all. 

I wonder how Bev is doing on the white side. I wonder if I shall ever see him again. Shall I ever see any of my family again? 

No, I won't. I have to stop fooling myself into thinking I am. I am not Harriet Hemings, daughter of Sally Hemings and… Thomas Jefferson… I am Elizabeth Lackland, and I am a white woman, free of the bondage that held me my entire life.

Thad came to see me today. As soon as I heard the sound of a carriage I raced downstairs and waited as patiently as I could. 

I tried to compose myself and I greeted him politely. He turned towards me and said, "Well… Elizabeth… it is wonderful to see you again."  

I smiled and said it was good to see him also. Jane came in and we were not alone for long. 

"Thad, oh I must tell you about the position I found for Miss Lackland," she started. She told him all about it and quite a bit more that I didn't listen to, but Thad seemed to like the idea. 

Jane left for a few moments, leaving Thad and me to talk. I acted like a fool and sat in silence, for it is not easy to be alone after you have been taught to serve and then stand in the corner in front of a white man. 

"Harriet," he whispered. 

"Thad…" I said and looked down. 

"You don't have to be afraid to meet my eyes Harriet," he said reading my mind.

"I'm not afraid," I said and met his eyes. They were warm and inviting, causing me to look away.

He turned my head towards him and smiled. His mouth came toward mine and we kissed. 

It was not the way it had been with Bankhead, the way he forced himself on me. It was sweet—and short. He pulled away and said, "Forgive me, I am sorry. I am taking advantage of you."

I sat in silence. The truth was I wanted him to kiss me, it felt right. He apologized again though and took his leave.

I don't know how he feels about me… but I love Thad.


	3. Bad Encounter

Sorry it took so long to post another chapter. My brother died not too long after I pposted the last one, and I couldn't write for awhile. This isn't that great of a chapter, because I have to develop more of a plot still, but I hope it'll do. Thanks for all of the reviews, I probably would have stopped writing if I wasn't getting any. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry it's so short too, it'll get longer, I promise.)

Chapter 3: "Bad Encounter"

            I walked straight into a man named Mr. Daniels as I was walking home today. I barely recognized him as a man who had done some business with Mr. Jefferson a couple of years back. He stared right at me and grabbed my arm, grunting, "Don't I know you?"

            My eyes grew wide, as I realized who he was, but I tried to keep my composure and said, "Unhand me sir!"

            He let go, a little confused and kept staring. 

            "Is there some occasion that you stare at me so?" I asked, dreading him yelling that I was a slave.

            "Ain't you from ol' Jefferson's place?" he asked, his eyes still locked on me.

            "I don't know what you're talking about, sir, but I must be on my way," I answered walking away from the man. He followed me though, for I turned suddenly and he was right behind me. "Sir, if you insist on following me, I shall be forced to scream."           

            "I know who you are, and if you scream, I swear you won't like what will happen," he replied, hate evident in his eyes.

            "Are you threatening me?" I asked, trying to keep my head up and act like a white lady, but inside I felt like a helpless nigra.

            "Yes, I am," he answered, and grabbed my arm again. "Your one of his nigra bastards, ain't you? 

            By then, others on the street turned, and one man came up to the man and pulled him off me, landing a punch right in the middle of Mr. Daniel's face. "How dare you treat a lady that way!" he yelled at him and turned towards me. "Are you all right?" 

            I nodded, and turned away, frightened that Mr. Daniel's would scream my name, and everyone would know.

            "Please, let me help you. You should file a complaint against this man. He assaulted you."

            "No, please, I just want to go home. Let him be," I pleaded, looking up at the man. 

            Mr. Daniels was getting up, blood at his nose. Hatred was in his eyes, ad he came towards the man, throwing all his weight onto him. I scream as the two proceeded to fight along the street. Mr. Daniels fell with a sickening thud to the ground and the other man knocked him into a wooden beam. 

            "I'm sorry you had to see all that, Ma'am," he apologized. "My name is James Wyatt. I'd like to take this man down to the sheriff and have him arrested, for assaulting you." 

            "Oh please, Mr. Wyatt, can we just leave him be?" I asked. I could not sign a complaint against him. He would try to contest that I was a nigra, and I couldn't handle that.

            He sighed and said, "He might keep bothering you if you don't, ma'am."

            Mr. Daniel's was still out cold, so I said, "Well, how long will it take?"

            "Just a minute, you won't even have to see this man again."

            "Fine, let's go," I said hurrying him to the sheriff's office, a couple of men carrying the unconscious Mr. Daniels behind us.

            They gave me a form to fill out at the office, and I nervously filled it out.

Name: Age: Color: Complaint: 

I looked at the name area and wrote Elizabeth Lackland, somewhat shakily. Once I got to color, I froze. I nearly even wrote black, but stopped at I had started the B. Quickly I wrote white, and wrote the complaint out. Mr. Wyatt handed it to the sheriff who put Mr. Daniels in a cell, and I breathed a little easier and hurried outside. 

"Well, you never did introduce yourself…" he began.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Miss Lackland. Thank you for saving me, sir."

"It was my pleasure, Miss Lackland. Lackland… Are you related to the Lacklands who were lost at sea?" he asked.

"Oh… Yes, as a matter of fact, they were my parents…" I replied, afraid, he actually _knew the real Elizabeth._

"Oh I'm terribly sorry. I'm glad to hear that you are all right though. From what I heard, all three of you were lost."

"Oh, no… I was supposed to go… but… well I didn't." I answered, hurrying more. 

"I did not mean to upset you, Miss Lackland," he said, apologetically, fearing that I was upset to be talking about my parents, "Please forgive me?"

"Of course," I replied. "I really must be getting home though. 

"Allow me to assist you home," he said, more of a demand, than a request. 

Once we arrived at Jane's house, he smiled at me and said, "I hope to see more of you, ma'am. I hope we run into each other soon."

"Nothing would please me more," I replied and walked inside, thoroughly exhausted.

What still bothers me is Mr. Daniels. Now that he is in jail, he shall become even more upset. I can only hope he keeps his mouth shut and leaves me alone. 


	4. To Know Mr Wyatt

                        Finally, I posted ch 4. Sorry it's taking so long to update, I'm hoping to get more on schedule. Please keep reviewing, I love seeing what you think of my ideas. I also wanted to say, thanks to **Saki** Cup of Tea **and **babyb26 **who offered me their condolences. It was really comforting to me to know that you two don't even know me, and you gave me support. Thanks again! Again, PLEASE REVIEW!!!  **

Ch 4- "To Know Mr. Wyatt"

Mr. Wyatt called for today after I got back from the orphanage. I don't know what he wants, but he acts as a complete gentleman. He never once mentioned the Lacklands again, thank God. 

            "How do you do, Miss Lackland? I just called to see how you were doing. That was quite a traumatic experience you had yesterday." He asked with genuine concern.

            I said hello to him, and told him I was just fine. We went into the parlor and I introduced him to Jane. She is completely smitten with him, if a married woman can be smitten. I must confess, he is _very_ good looking… better than Thad even.

            He asked me to go walking with him, which I consented to, though, I must be frank, I am not interested in Mr. Wyatt. I don't know if it is because of Thad, but… it might be because he knows nothing about who I am… about my past.

            Thad knows what I was and what I want to be, which is somewhat comforting. 

            Another thing made me somewhat frightened of him. As we were walking, nigra slaves were on the street. I commented absentmindedly that they should be better taken care of, as they were dressed in nothing but rags and I could even see whip marks showing through one of the men's shirts. I also said their master should be punished for treating them that way.

            Mr. Wyatt is a bigoted man. He said something that made me cringe, though I don't think he would say it if he knows how I feel. 

            He said, right after I had made my comments, "They're slaves, what do you expect? You think they actually have feelings? All they care about is they're next meal."

            I started straight ahead, knowing I could not retaliate. I could not show my true feelings on the subject, for I had to act as the docile white lady. But, inside I was screaming at the man. 

            I am trying not to hold his comment against him, for that is the way he was brought up… but… that remark hurts. 

            Well then I sped up, so infuriated with him, that I would not slow down when he called after me. He finally caught my arm and said, "Now what have I vexed you about?" as if it was nothing. 

             I looked down, not daring to meet his eyes. I knew my eyes would betray me if he saw them. "I just… my head is beginning to hurt, Mr. Wyatt. Would you mind us cutting the walk short?"

            "Of course, Miss Lackland," he replied, once again the gentleman. I would like to box his ears for acting like a gentleman to me… for this is how he should be acting to every nigra everywhere.

            I have been very lax in writing in this journal lately, which I am very upset about. I have not written in over two months and so much has happened, so that I must explain it all from the start.

            Mr. Wyatt called for me repeatedly so that I came to expect him each day. He now always come to the orphanage as soon as I come out the door, and walks me home. I have come to enjoy his company exceedingly. 

            One thing that vexes me is that I asked Jane if I might invite him to have dinner with us, and she said no, that Mr. Wyatt is not welcome in her house. I begged her to know why, but she would not tell which is very irritating, for I would like to know for what reason he has made her upset. It must be something serious, as Jane is not likely to be upset over nothing.

            Other than that, the days passed smoothly until Thad came home about a week ago. I have come to dread his company. The first time he saw Mr. Wyatt he asked me what I was doing with him. He told me to stop seeing him, but offered no explanation why. 

            Well, believe me I did not expect this. Not at all. First Jane, and then Thad. Well, I was so upset because he had been away for almost two months and had not bothered to write a single letter, and he seems to think I am his property. How dare he tell me what to do! 

            Whenever I see him, I turn the other way, hoping he has not seen me. His very presence in the room with me is infuriating. I would like to tell him to leave, but after all, it is Jane's house. 

            I catch Thad looking at me sometimes. Just staring, as if he is trying to understand something about me. I just want Thad to leave me alone once and for all. 

            Lordy, I just had a dreadful experience. I never thought Mr. Wyatt act like this. Or do this!

            Mr. Wyatt has slaves. I went over to his home for dinner tonight and I could barely function as I tried to eat my food. 

            I was so excited when he asked me to dinner; I thought how lucky I was to finally see his house. I spent all the time from when I got home from the orphanage getting ready. I wore one of Mama's beautiful silk gowns she gave me. This one was blue, with black around the waist. My hair took hours to fix, for I am not accustomed to wearing a braid any longer.

            I went in a carriage to Mr. Wyatt's, and, oh, did I feel like a lady. Once I knocked on the door however, my smile went away. A nigra opened the door for me and took my shawl. He directed me in to Mr. Wyatt, who introduced me to his younger sister, who lives with him. She seemed a bit uppity, but it was probably because she was raised rich. 

            I suppose it seems foolish, but at first I thought the nigras in his house were paid servants. It was not until I realized that the household was run like Mr. Jefferson's… though… it was with more hostility. The nigras did not eat with us; they served the food and stood in the corner, acting dumb. I wonder what they were thinking—if they thought ill of me because they thought I was white, or if they didn't care. 

            Mr. Wyatt told me about his work. "I have a plantation out in the country. Quite a big house actually. I have quite a lot of nigras working there…" he went on, and I smiled politely. I tried thinking what it would be like to be a white slave owner's wife… and owning slaves. I can't imagine how horrible it would feel to… to own someone. 

            I was so upset my body seemed to take over and I stood up and walked out of the dining hall. I could hear Mr. Wyatt run after me, but I could not reconcile myself to listen to his prattle about slavery. 

            "I'm sorry, Miss Lackland, as it appears I have said something to offend you. Pray, tell me what troubles you?" he asked, his face like a puppies. I could not help but let the hostility drain from my gaze.

            "I am sorry Mr. Wyatt. I… I just… I am from the North… I have never been subjected to slavery. I don't… I don't believe in it," I said trying to think of an excuse for my erratic behavior. Only after I said it I realized I had a southern accent… I could not hide that… Surely he had to have noticed. 

            "Ah…" he said after a pause, and continued, "Would you mind telling me the truth Miss Lackland?"

            Needless to say this frightened me. His face was set in a stone-like glare. The fire in his eyes, made him look dangerous, hateful even. 

             "What I meant to say, is that I was raised in the North my first ten years, when we moved to the south. We always lived in town though, and never kept any slaves," I was amazed at the amount of lies coming out of my mouth. Why did I have to lie only in front of Mr. Wyatt? 

            He seemed to be a little wary of this explanation but believed it. The rest of the evening was uneventful, for we only talked about neutral topics. 

            As I sit here now, my thoughts keep coming back to Mr. Wyatt. He is a slave owner, in fact he revels in the fact that he owns plantations filled with slaves. How can I possibly keep seeing a man like this? If not for the way he looks at me sometimes, his eyes gentle and loving… then I think I love him… but how can I a former slave, love a slave owner?


	5. Approval?

Once again I am so sorry that I barely ever post chapters. Maybe I'm just lazy? I have no idea. This chapter is so short too, so once again I'M SORRY!!! The next will be longer, but then again I think I promised that last chapter. (sorry once again) And I know a lot of you hate Mr. Wyatt but I need _some_ plot so that's why he's in there. I mean how good would the story be if Harriat married Thad and lived happily ever after? So, that's enough of my babbling here's the exceedingly short chapter. 

Well things have certainly progressed since I have last written in this dear book of mine. I have been seeing more of Mr. Wyatt each day, to the point where people are beginning to talk. 

Thad is extremely upset with me. He keeps repeating that Mr. Wyatt is a slave owner and so on. I can hardly bear to even look at him anymore. I look forward to each new day I get to spend with him, despite my anxieties from before. He may be a slave owner, but he is a sweet caring man. He treats me with more respect than anyone has ever treated me with. He _cares_ about the things I say, he actually gives my thoughts merit, and doesn't just dismiss them as simple women's gibberish. 

I have become quite serious about him, and though I know many people disagree for some reason or another, many others think he is my perfect match. I have met many extremely kind women throughout my stay here, who have told me that Mr. Wyatt is "the very picture of a gentleman." I cannot seem to make Jane relent in her vow not to let him in the house, which is about the only thing that makes me uneasy about the whole thing. I cannot seem to reason why she hates him so. After all Mr. Jefferson is a slave owner and she doesn't hate him. 

I can only believe that Thad is jealous of my new relationship. If that is the case though, it is his own fault. He never offered an excuse for not writing me when he was gone. It seems to me that is common decency when he was gone for weeks and weeks. That seems like the basics of gentlemanly behavior. 

There is a dance tonight though which Mr. Wyatt has asked to escort me to. I don't even care if Thad is going, and I am not going to ask. I hope he sees me with Mr. Wyatt, because he deserves to be taken down a notch. He is altogether too sure of himself as respects me. 

Tonight went extremely well. I shall treasure the memories forever. When David picked me up (For now I think it is proper to call Mr. Wyatt David) we drove inside his beautiful carriage and didn't say much for awhile for a while and then he suddenly moved over to sit next to me and with a look of anguish in his eyes asked me the question, "Miss Lackland… Elizabeth… I do not wish to be forward… I… I have fallen in love with you. Please lift my anguish and consent to spend our remaining days together as my wife."

Needless to say I was amazed and pleased. I couldn't even think of what to say and I just nodded my head and he pulled out a beautiful diamond ring. I cannot help from looking at it, as it sparkles on my finger. 

Well, David asked if it would be all right to announce the engagement that night, which I couldn't help myself as it is was such a delicious prospect. Well we danced the first two dances together, and mingled a bit. A little later in the evening, David came to me and grasped my hand, bringing me to the front of the room. 

"I only wish a moment of your time, ladies and gentlemen. Miss Elizabeth Lackland has consented to make me the happiest man on earth, and the two of us shall be married." He said, still grasping my hand. 

Everyone was very excited over the announcement and came and congratulated us. Everything was like a blur as everyone whirled around David and me. 

Everything was going perfectly until Thad came over and shook David's hand and bowed to me an unreadable look on his face. "Congratulations Wyatt, I hope you can somehow make yourself worthy of her." Without a word to me, Thad walked off. I cannot imagine what David was thinking, but he only laughed and smiled down at me and said, "Of course, for I know I shall never be worthy of my little flower."

I know what Thad meant though, everyone did I'm sure. He insulted the man I am about to marry and I am not about to let him get away with it. 

Though that put a damper on the evening, David and I still had a most pleasant evening, and we danced again. I never saw Thad again; I assume he won't show his face to me again. I can only hope he doesn't. David took me home, and I haven't told Jane yet. I'd rather not tell her, for likely she will act the same as her brother. The two are so pig headed I cannot stand it. 

At least I don't have to stay around her that much longer. Soon I shall leave this place and become David's wife and never have to deal with my past again.

Where to begin? I can't even talk to Jane anymore…

When I told her about my engagement she stared at me with a very sullen expression. "You aren't serious?" she asked, not blinking.

"Of course I am! Jane, you know how much I love him," I protested, disgusted with her reaction.

"You… but you are an abolitionist… how can you marry a… a slave owner? And not just any slave owner, haven't you heard that he uses the whip on them when ever he isn't pleased? And you must know about those half-nigras running around there. Who's do you think they are?"

"David is not like that, Jane. He is a decent man…" then I remembered Mr. Jefferson… wasn't he a decent man? And look what he and Mama did…

Jane merely scoffed and turned way. "Do what you want Elizabeth, but mind you I am not going to help you. If you go through with this I wash my hands of you."

"I don't need your scolding Jane. You should give me your blessing and be done with it. I am not a child who needs your guidance!" with that I left the room, and I have barely spoken to her since. 

I don't have much money for a trousseau, and I've been trying to scrape together enough money for some proper things. I have most of which I need from Mama, but I do wish I had more. I bought some very pretty fabric which I am attempting to sew into a wedding gown. 

I don't know why I can't concentrate though… I have to pull out nearly as many stitches as I sew because my mind is so preoccupied. I don't know if what Jane said is true. I don't know if I am marrying a man I _should_ be marrying… 

I shall think about that tomorrow though. Tomorrow will tell what I need to know.


	6. Secrets Exposed

I'm extremely sorry I haven't written in like 3 months (and that the chapter is so short) forgive me!!!

In the Jaws of the Wolf: Chapter 6-"Secrets Exposed"

Well tomorrow came and past—weeks have past. My wedding day is coming up in just three weeks, and I am so nervous I can barely breathe. In two weeks I will be Mrs. Harriet Elizabeth Wyatt. Why can't I seem to be rid of that life? I have been Elizabeth Lackland for over a year, but I still feel like that person.

I don't know if I should even bother to write in this journal anymore, after all as a married woman I won't have time anyway—and the idea of keeping a journal seems so juvenile. As a matter of fact I must go now; David invited me to a dance, so I must get ready.

No No NO!!! How could this have happened? How could any of this have happened? Why didn't I listen to Jane and Thad? Why was I so pig headed? I am so incredibly ashamed I can hardly even write this as my tears are making the paper I write on wet.

Oh Lordy! LORDY!!! I feel like a stupid, crazy, conceited fool! I suppose I must tell what happened, though it pains me so.

Everything was going perfectly until just a few hours ago, one week before the wedding. I finished my wedding dress, I even had it all trimmed with this beautiful, expensive lace. Thad invited me over for dinner that night, and I happily accepted. My nerves felt so tense with the apprehension of the wedding that I barely paid attention to what was going on around me.

"So, Harriet, are you nervous about our big day?" he asked me after taking a drink of wine.

I smiled a little and said, "Excited, not nervous, David," That was when I realized my mistake. How could he have possibly known? How could he have found out? My hand clamped over my mouth, and I could almost feel the color begin to drain from my face.

"Yes… I thought so," he said, standing and walking over to me. He bent down to look me in the eye. "You have been lying to me all this time…"

"No, David, it was a mistake, I wasn't really paying attention!" I sputtered trying to explain.

He shook his head a little and said, "Your name is not Elizabeth Lackland. I have known that for several months now. Elizabeth Lackland died several years ago. I know, for I knew her father quite well. I couldn't understand however why you would take her name. That is when I searched for our friend Mr. Daniels."

My breath came in little gasps as I realized what he would say. "He told me he recognized you. I asked him where, but he was a little reluctant to talk about it. A little money solved that problem. He said that you are not the fine lady that you claimed. He told me he took notice of you when he did business with you father!" He laughed a horrifying laugh and said, "At first I thought that meant that your father was a well to do businessman. But then he told me that your father was none other than the great Thomas Jefferson.

"Well I'm sure you can imagine my shock, Harriet, I mean after all, it's not everyone's fiancée that is the daughter of a president."

"David, please," I began, but he held up his hand and began again.

"Well then he told me how exactly you are Mr. Jefferson's daughter. That you are nothing but a nigra slave—his bastard by a nigra woman. So, Harriet Hemings, what do you expect me to do with this knowledge?" he asked looking at me straight in the eye.

My teeth were nearly chattering, I was so scared. "David, I never meant to deceive you—" I began, but he cut me off.

"That is precisely what you did though, Harriet. If I were to go through with this marriage I would be married to a slave! You would have let me marry a filthy nigra!" he yelled now, slapping me across the face.

"David, please!" I whispered again, my face stinging from his slap.

He shook his head again and whispered to me, "So what do you expect me to do now? What do you _want_ me to do? Do you want me to keep this a secret, marry you and live happily ever after? Or do you want me to tell everyone what and who you are?"

"I am not a lower being than you are David! You have no right to treat me so!" I yelled back, knowing I was pressing my luck. He was mad at me, steaming mad. I was at an awful disadvantage, and he knew it.

"I have every right to treat you anyway I care to," he said, leaning closer to me.

"What do you want from me David?" I asked him quietly, leaning away from him. "We obviously aren't getting married anymore, so what do you precisely want?"

"What do I want?" he asked nearly on top of me now, "I want you to shut up and listen to me. If you do what I say, I won't tell anyone about you. We'll quietly call the wedding off and you can go on being Elizabeth Lackland."

"And what is it you want me to do…?" I asked slowly.

He looked me straight in the eye and leaned into my ear and whispered, "You can do for me what your mother did for our dear president."


End file.
